Dean Winchester & Castiel: Deserved
by Anniered
Summary: Ten years ago today he had met Castiel in that barn, nothing had ever been the same. When he had told Castiel this, he had initially tilted his head and furrowed his brow – before Dean could question the expression, Castiel had abruptly grinned, stating that he would find something to do to celebrate his decade of knowing the brothers. Destiel Casdean Deancas


_Note:_ This is my first Destiel fic, I intended to release on the 18th of Sept for the ten year anniversary of Castiel/Dean Winchester meeting, but deadlines aren't my thing. Hope you all enjoy!

 ** _Deserved_**

"Booking for three?" Dean asked, "Under Winchester." He was standing beside Castiel as the seating host read down a list. He was in his nicest shirt, he had ironed it especially. He had washed and shaved, even combed through his hair with some gooey stuff that he had brought on a whim after hearing another man talk it up to his buddy in the grooming aisle of the supermarket.

Today was special, though he would never admit just how special.

Ten years today he had met Castiel in that barn, nothing had ever been the same. When he had told Castiel this, he had initially tilted his head and furrowed his brow – before Dean could question the expression, Sam had joked that time to angels is probably as inconsequential as bicycles to fish – but Castiel had abruptly grinned, stating that he would find something to do to celebrate his decade of knowing the brothers.

He was very conscious of how close the angel stood next to him, he felt as though he had a constant tightness in his chest – like it was time. _Time for what?_ Dean had been asking himself that all day. Something was coming, but for the life of him – he could not figure out what it was. He had had a beer each time he dwelled on it, attempting in vein to calm his nerves at the unidentified impending _something_. He'd worked through a six pack prior to coming out tonight and had drank almost an entire out of pure embarrassment when in the presence of his best friend – due to events that had befell earlier that day.

It had been a big day already; the tightness had started almost immediately upon awakening.

Dean had emerged from a deep sleep, his dreams had swirled around him – obscured through the veil of drowsiness, dreams of skin-to-skin contact, bruising kisses that had left trails as they brushed over each other's lips – throats – shoulders, their pumping fists, pulsing bodies, sighs that should be considered more sinful than the act itself. The dreams made him hunger, he groaned softly, he could almost feel the hot hands of his partner gripping his shoulders, his mouth curled into a smile as he hissed the name of his lover over and over again. He could taste his lover's skin on his lips, he had sighed again.

They had squeezed his shoulders tighter, skin unnaturally warm against his.

He shifted in his sleep, unwilling to let the dream slip away – he'd opened his eyes slowly to find Castiel inches from his face, head tilted, and eyebrows furrowed in confusion – hand on his bare shoulder. " _Yes, Dean?_ " he had asked. Dean had scrambled back in the bed, forgetting it was a single and falling on the floor with a crash, Sam had shot up in the next bed and looked frantically around the room.

 _"_ _What the hell is going on?"_ he asked as he rubbed his eyes, no longer on edge after seeing the commotion was caused by Dean and Castiel.

 _"_ _Cas not getting personal space is what is going on! Again!"_ Dean had grumbled, trying to pull himself out of the space between the beds. Castiel held out his hand and Dean had taken it.

 _"_ _You said my name…"_ Castiel said, helping him into an upright stance, _"You had said it multiple times, I felt the longing and came as soon as I could."_

Dean flushed scarlet, dropping his too-warm hand quickly and trying to think of a way to cover his own ass, _"I—uh, you—I mean, you must have misinterpreted…"_

 _"_ _I can't misinterpret longing."_ Castiel said straightening up, his eyes raked over Dean's body and suddenly widened. Dean glanced down and thought he would die, his boxers did nothing to hide his erection. He brought his hand down to cover himself and looked back up at Castiel, his mouth was opened slightly, and his pink lips shiny, as if he had just wet them with his tongue.

A snicker came from behind them, Sam's face was red with trying to contain his laughter, _"Sleep it off, Sam!"_ Dean had grumbled, pushing past Castiel and slamming the bathroom door behind him.

Dean is called back to the present as the host excitedly jabs his finger on the booking, "Ah yes! Winchester at eight o'clock for three people! And your full name, please?"

"Dean Winchester, and my brother Sam is still on his way." He handed a wad of cash over to the gentleman to start the tab, he would have done a credit card – but this place seemed too on top of its security, especially for a town this small, to have this night ruined by a scammed card.

"Excellent. Mr. Dean Winchester…" He scribbled their names next to the booking after taking the cash, "And you?" He looked at the angel.

"Castiel." He answered, eyes scanning the restaurant.

"Surname?"

"What?" He looked back at the seating host.

"For record keeping reasons, sir. We like to get the guest's names in case there is an emergency, confirm identity if someone calls, etcetera. What is your last name?"

He was trying to think of a common human surname, even his vessel's old last name – he drew a blank, "I-I, uh—"

"Winchester." Dean said suddenly, peering at Castiel from the corner of his eyes.

It was like he'd just given the angel a gift – his lips pressed into a smile that was heartbreaking to look at, the cool blue of his eyes seemed to melt at those three syllables. Dean felt a swelling in his chest and tried not to stare at him, failing miserably, "His last name is _Winchester_." he finished with a soft smile, not taking his eyes off Castiel.

The angel had a sudden an urge to reach out and lace his fingers through Dean's, he thought about how he had been called back from his errand by the sound of Dean's whispers, the longing that had an entirely different taste to it than usual – stronger. How it stood out to him – how after years of prayers, this longing was the closest to what he had began to feel long ago. He felt his cheeks warm as Dean's eyes continued to search his own.

The host smiled, "Aw, three Winchesters." They turned back to the host, "Nice when a family can get together. Brothers? Cousins?" he questioned, grabbing three drink menus and stepping out from behind his podium.

"Cas isn't related to us by blood." Dean smiled off-handedly as they were lead to the table.

"Oh?" The host replied.

"Yeah, it was great the first time we met, sparks flew." Dean laughed, feeling pleasantly tipsy, "Ten years ago today." he grinned, placing a hand on Castiel's shoulder affectionately. "We've been through a lot of ups and downs—" _And downs and downs and downs…_ "But now we are celebrating an anniversary!" Dean held Castiel's eyes again, the blue was still liquid warmth – it made his whole face seem like it was glowing. Dean felt butterflies in his stomach and dropped his hand, unintentionally knocking Castiel's as he went to take his seat. _Take it easy, Winchester…_ He thought to himself, _you're in public…_

"How nice." The host said abruptly, though the words sounded like he was not on board with his reply. "Please be seated." The air around the man seemed to change dramatically as he walked off.

"Wait, you took our drink menu— _ugh_ , damn." Dean huffed. "What was his hurry?" he looked back at Castiel as he removed his trench coat, the white shirt pulled tightly across his chest as he slipped the garment off behind him, his tie was loose and top button undone, Dean's mouth went dry.

"Sorry I am late!" Sam's voice came out of nowhere, Dean jumped as he pulled out a chair and sat.

"You are only late by three and a half minutes." Castiel said, eyes tracing the patterns on the ceiling, "Not wholly uncourteous by human standards."

Sam gave half a chuckle, he looked across at Dean, "What's your problem?"

He shifted in his seat, pursing his lips together as he glimpsed at Sam, "The host took off with our drinks menu..." Dean grumbled. _I shouldn't have drunk so much before coming out, my head isn't screwed on right…_

A pretty server walked passed with a tray full of drinks, Sam waved for her attention, "Excuse me, if you have a moment, could I order three tequilas with salt and lime for the table?"

"It is lemon, you asshat." Dean smirked, leaning back in his chair and glancing towards the bar, a couple were sharing a slow kiss and he felt like throwing a napkin at them.

The server smiled, "Sure thing, handsome. Won't be too long."

"Nice place." Sam remarked, "Why did you choose this, Cas?" They had driven four hours since the morning, crossing the state border into Texas, booking into a new motel, Sam had insisted on his own room this time, smirking at Dean as pink tinged his ears, Castiel casting a confused glance between the two at the exchange.

"I heard someone say this Mexican food was heavenly, I wanted to see if it was much like heaven as the person assumed." He shrugged, Sam and Dean exchanged looks and smiled.

"Excuse me." The three men looked up, there was a short, plump, blonde woman standing with her arms crossed beside their table. The host that had seated them peered out from behind her. "We have an issue, gentlemen."

"Oh, no problem!" Dean said, seeing his rolled bills in her hand and reaching for his wallet, pulling out a random credit card – hoping they would let the name slide, he wasn't having the anniversary of meeting their closest friend ruined by a credit-only tab.

"No, no, that isn't what I am talking about." She huffed, she flicked her short _get-me-the-manager_ hairstyle back over her shoulder as she continued, "This is a _family_ establishment..."

"Oh, I see." Sam said, "We can just grab a beer or two with dinner and not worry about the shots." He smiled politely and was about to ask for the drinks menu that their host was still holding when the woman continued to shake her head.

"You aren't understanding me!" She said curtly.

"Of course we aren't. You haven't attempted to explain the problem." Castiel responded, tilting his head slightly to the side. Dean glanced at him and was, for a moment, distracted by the skin of his neck. The butterflies came to life again, the tightness flexed, he took a deep breath.

 _Stop it, stop it, stop it._

"The problem, gentlemen, is that this establishment is a family-friendly place, and that there is no tolerance here for your lifestyle..."

Dean and Sam glanced at each other, " _Lifestyle_?" Sam mouthed, Dean shrugged. Castiel looked towards the brothers, hoping they understood what the woman was becoming so upset about. She became exasperated, she hissed through her chemically whitened teeth.

" _We don't like fags here_."

There was silence from the table for a few seconds as the words and their malice settled and registered.

" _Excuse me?_ " Both Winchesters said in unison, not even attempting to hide their anger. "What the hell would possess you to say _th—_ " Dean tried to continue but was cut off.

"We have a right as Americans to refuse service to anyone—"

"Based on something a person cannot control?" Castiel asked, he seemed calm – which was a strong juxtapose from the brothers.

"What a joke." She scoffed.

"No, the joke here is you thinking you can just discriminate like this. You don't know boo about any of us!" Sam snapped.

"I know that I was informed that these two—" she pointed between Dean and Castiel, "were blatantly parading their relationship like this is a common gay bar!"

"There is literally a dude and chick sucking face three tables over!" Dean shouted, the restaurant had gone silent and all eyes were on them.

She slammed the bills down on the table, "We want you, and your sinful lifestyle, out of my restaurant!"

"Sinful?" The angel huffed without humour.

"Hey, easy done, lady." Dean half yelled, pushing out from the table with such force that the chair fell backwards, he shoved the money into his jacket pocket and resisted the urge to flip the entire table.

"If I see you in here again, I will be calling the authorities!" She screamed back at him.

"Don't worry, we'd never come back here." Sam snarled, pulling his jacket back on.

"And take your boyfriend with you!" pointing a stubby finger at Castiel, who had only just stood up and was trying to pull his trench coat on.

"Let's go, Cas." Dean said gruffly, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the door.

/\/\/\/\

They sat on the floor, Dean had a scowl etched into his face and Sam had his lips pursed, watching his older brother with intrigue. He took a sip of his beer, turned his head slightly and spoke, "Hey, Dean…"

"What?" it could have almost been a growl, the way his teeth were clenched.

"Are you okay?"

"No," he sighed, taking a deep sip from his beer, "We should put a hex on that bitch's restaurant…"

"Dean…" Sam scolded, though pursing his lips in amusement.

"Just a little one!" he said, raising a hand in defence of his comment, "Something like, _'may her beer be forever flat'_ , or something along those lines… Come on, man! She ruined his night! And she got away with it! A decade with him, and he didn't get the evening he deserves…"

"She will get what is coming to her, racist-homophobic-bigots never prosper…"

"Ha, tell that to the mook running the country…" then he paused, raising his eyebrow and peering at Sam, "You think she is racist too?"

Sam stifled a chuckle into his beer, "Oh certainly. What kind of person appropriates an entire multi-levelled culture without acknowledging the people, doesn't seem to employ a single person of colour, and the menu has ' _non-spiced_ ' versions of their heavily spiced traditional meals! I mean come on, the place was called _El Sandra's_ …" Sam finished with a wide grin, Dean shook his head in humour and sipped his beer.

"H—how were you two ' _blatantly parading_ ' your relationship?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. He had always suspected something was there on both parts, but he also knew that neither of them would man up and take control. It was, at times, humorous to watch them dance around each other. He waited for Dean's response, expecting him to give a smart-ass answer, or ignore the question all together.

"I don't know," he mumbled, "I mean, I had my hand on his shoulder, I told the host he was a Winchester – but not by blood…" Dean trailed off, then peeked at Sam, "You didn't even seem surprised when she accused us of being together."

"I guess it is because I wouldn't mind. So long as you are happy." He shrugged, sipping his beer and watching as Dean's lips curled up at the corners.

"Bitch." He mumbled.

"Jerk." Sam grinned back.

The song of Castiel's wings announced his return, he greeted them as he sat down, completing their triangle. Dean beamed widely at his return, he felt Sam's eyes on him and tried to hide the smile. He placed bags of food in the middle of them, the overwhelming smell of spices and freshly seared corn tortillas filled the room in moments.

"Is this—?" Sam reached out and opened a bag.

"You went to Mexico for legit Mexican food?" Dean smirked, glancing across at the angel, who was unscrewing the top off a bottle of very fine-looking tequila.

"I wanted heavenly Mexican food, so I went and found some."

"Geez, for someone who doesn't need to eat a lot – you are committed. " Dean pulled a boxed bundle out of one of the bags, peeled the packaging back, and took a bite, "Holy heavenly huaraches!" he tipped his head back as he swallowed, Castiel smiled again, his eyes trailed down the length of Dean's neck – he shifted himself, twisted the lid from his tequila bottle and took a deep sip.

They sat together for a long time, telling jokes, laughing, and taking time to remember all they had been through. They had been indulging in beer since the late afternoon before they went for dinner, and they had now moved to tequila, Castiel was on his second bottle, while the brother's shared one between them.

Sam couldn't help but notice the constant stares between the two of them, he smiled gently, watching as Dean explained the plot to a new television show he was trialling, seemingly, Castiel was hanging off his every word – but at the end of the five minute long explanation, Castiel shook his head and mumbled about missing the last bit of the conversation, Sam smiled wider and sipped the tequila. Eventually he sighed and stretched, "I might hit the hay." He smiled, "Cas, it has been wonderful knowing you all these years, and I hope to have you with us for many more." He stood as Castiel did and hugged him closely, he drew back and nodded to Dean, "I will see you guys at breakfast." He waved as he left the room, shaking his head with a grin stretched across his face.

He left them alone.

Castiel looked at Dean, his eyes admiring his jaw and lips as he turned back from watching Sam go, to look at the angel – colour touched his cheeks as Dean blinked at him. The hunter cleared his throat, "I— _uh_ , I am sorry that your plans didn't go as, uh, _planned_ …" he said, lips curling up lamely in a half-smile.

The angel nodded thoughtfully, "This worked out to be much more enjoyable." He paused for a moment, "The man that showed us to our seats, he assumed we were together in a romantic sense?" Castiel asked, sipping from the tequila bottle.

Dean bit into his lower lip, the tautness across his sternum flexed again, "I suppose he did."

"I didn't think the way you touched me was sexually suggestive..." he mumbled mostly to himself.

Dean half laughed, "It wasn't." He reached for his bottle and took a swig, "I think it was me saying that you had the same last name, and then when I said we weren't related, and then when I said sparks flew when we met..."

"But, sparks did fly. The lightbulbs blew in my presence and—" Castiel started, Dean's chuckling cut him off.

"Hey, you're right. But he wasn't there, and I guess he assumed I meant, _y'know_ , romantic sparks."

" _Interesting_." He murmured, looking down at the bottle in his hands. Dean couldn't help but trace his eyes over the undone buttons at the top of his shirt, Castiel bit into his lip again – drawing his eyes to the action, "So, when he thought we had the same last name but were not related, he assumed we were married?"

"Yeah, _Cas_ …" Dean blushed, feeling it crawling up his neck and across his cheeks.

Castiel noticed how Dean suddenly looked away from him, how angry he had become after leaving the restaurant, how he had ranted the whole way home about assumptions and had refused to look at Castiel when they had first returned here. He had always presumed the Winchester brothers were comfortable with all sexual orientations – _for what decent being isn't?_ But the angel realised he had never actually asked what they thought. Hurt filled his stomach and made his chest feel heavy at the thought of Dean being revolted at the connection the detestable woman had made. He sighed softly, "Does that…" Castiel paused for a moment, unwilling to speak the words, "Does that make you feel ashamed?"

Dean didn't answer immediately. He watched as Castiel waited patiently for his answer, his head tilted on an angle, brow furrowed. _Now would be a good time to just let it all out—shhuuut up!_ He took a slow breath in, eyes tracing over the label on the tequila bottle he held in his hands. "No. No, Cas, it doesn't." _In fact, the thought of you having my name has turned me into a pile of gooey lovey-dovey nonsen—for the love of Christ, drop it!_

"I liked that you decided to share your last name with me." He said softly, his eyes turning to liquid again.

"Of course, Cas." Dean said, chest tightening again, "Use it whenever you want too."

Castiel blew a puff of air out, his lips forming a perfect pout, drawing Dean's eyes to the shape. He seemed to take a few deep breaths, "Forgive me, I am having some very intense human urges..." he grumbled, his cheeks and neck flushed an attractive pink.

"Like what?" Dean could barely bring his voice above a mumble, he wished he was sober, the sensation in his sternum felt like it would rip him apart soon enough.

He glanced at Dean then looked away quickly, the pink that coloured his features darkened several shades, it made his eyes stand out in an impressive contrast. "That I want to be with you."

The world seemed to stop.

"In all ways." He continued.

Dean thought he may die, as his body jolted in shock, _me?_

Castiel continued in a murmur, the lull of his voice making Dean's entire being shiver, "Spiritually, emotionally," the corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly, " _Physically_." The way his lips wrapped around the word caused Dean to suck in a sharp breath. "I have spent the whole day thinking of you," he started, Dean's eyes widened, "the way you whispered _my name_ , the longing I could feel, your body this morning – even just _seeing_ it." He took a slow breath, it was shaky, "There has been an intense rigidity in here—" his hand caressed his chest for a moment, Dean's eyes followed the movement, "—an uncontrollable, inescapable _lust_."

Dean's body temperature shot skywards. _Lust_ , he thought, realisation shaking him – _I have been feeling lust._

"It has been building for a while now," Castiel continued in an almost whisper, "I never realised exactly what it was that had been growing inside me, but the moment you gifted me your last name – something you hold with such unwavering pride – it all became so clear. A relief, really, something growing so slowly, gradually over a decade that by the time I realised what I was harbouring – it was too well developed to extinguish. And I also realised that I wouldn't want to."

Dean could feel that his mouth was open in awe, that his eyes were glossy, and that he had been holding his breath, the blue eyes of his angel made their way slowly up his form until they held his own.

Castiel continued again, "I just want you to know, that we could have been sitting under a bridge eating stale, old PB&Js, and so long as you were able to be there, I—" there was another heart stopping pause, "I would have treasured each moment."

Dean couldn't respond. _Now would be an_ excellent _time to just let it all out…_

Castiel looked down and held the almost empty bottle up, "Wow, this is outstanding alcohol." He smirked, downing the rest. Dean's mind was in meltdown, his body was two thirds pain, and one third unfaltering love and exaltation.

He moved to his knees, he didn't know whether to get up and take a breather, laugh it off, confess every feeling he had ever felt, or take his best friend on the floor right then and there.

He decided the latter would be best.

He moved clumsily on his knees and grabbed Castiel by the front of his shirt. His hands bundled the crisp, white material in his grasp – Castiel all but froze, his mouth opened in surprise, but all he could do was sink into the warmth of his green eyes. Eyes that appeared almost gold in the glow of the hotel's bedside lamps. Everything threatened to come pouring out, how long the sex dreams had been happening, how long he had felt something more intense than the feeling of friendship, how much he wanted to reduce him to nothing more than a quivering pile of pleasure.

Dean pursed his lips into a hard line, the tightness in his chest heightened, he didn't think he could breathe even if he had tried, he leant forward slowly, his lips centimetres from Castiel's.

 _Just say it, just say it, just say—_

He spoke in barely a hum, "I feel it too."

Dean crushed his mouth to Castiel's, a groan forcing its way from his throat as the tightness in his chest exploded through his body, ripping its way through every inch of him. Devastating relief, overpowering arousal, a feeling that Dean could only recognise as the emotional representation of _fiiiinally._

The kiss was deep and fuelled by pure desperation and lust.

Castiel's hands buried themselves in Dean's hair, he gripped handfuls and pulled him closer, tongues and teeth knocked together, Dean trying urgently to express all he could without using words – he released Castiel's shirt and began running his hands over the angel's forearms, behind to his shoulder blades, along his flanks.

Castiel broke the kiss for only a moment to breathe, moving one hand behind him to stop them from falling backwards. Dean's mouth travelled across his chin, sucking and biting around his jaw and down the length of his neck. His fingers began to unbutton, but soon became impatient. He put his body weight behind a gentle shove that resulted in Castiel laying flat on the floor, Dean straddled his thighs and placed a hand on either side of the buttons on Castiel's shirt, he ripped it open. Buttons scattered, Dean revelled in the sight of his angel's chest rising and falling, the muscles tight and a sheen of sweat covering him. He moved to tongue and suck the surfaces he could find, hearing Castiel moan above him. His excitement was uncontainable, fingers began undoing his pants, unzipping the fly and beginning to shimmy them downwards. As the boxers moved down, Dean kissed the newly exposed skin with an unparalleled hunger, lower and lower until he could feel the hardness of Castiel through the boxers against his chin.

Dean felt Castiel's hands on his shoulders, grasping the fabric of his shirt, he was pulled back up to face level with Castiel, his mouth closed around Dean's as his hands tried the push the clothes from his shoulders. No part of Dean was prepared for the unbelievable need that coursed through his veins like a drug, they were finally so close to giving everything they had to one another, the hunter knew he should try and reign himself in – even just slightly – but his best friend was right there with him. Dean kept their mouths joined as he stripped himself of his outer shirt. They were forced to break as Dean sat up to remove his black undershirt, a desperate noise escaped the angel's lips at the loss of touch. He smirked as he was pulled back into contact in a heated kiss. Castiel's hands gripped his shoulders, ran in lines over his back, forced their hips to stay pressed against one another. Dean began to grind against Castiel, his breathing hitched and groans were whispered between them, he reached between them – unbuttoning his own pants and trying as best he could to reach Castiel's, wanting them completely gone. There was a catch in Castiel's voice as he parted to trail more kisses down his lover's chest, "We should get in the bed."

"I don't know if I can bare the separation." Dean whispered against his chest.

"Dean —" he started, but suddenly they were moving, Dean standing and pulling Castiel with him by the sides of his open shirt, they kept contact, their bare skin hot against the other. Dean sat on the edge of the bed, kissing Castiel's stomach, gripping his boxers and pulling them down at the sides, sighing loudly as his erection was freed. He was an impressive size, not that it would have mattered either way – Dean bit into his lower lip anxiously, he almost laughed at the innocence as he thought, _this will hurt_. Dean looked up at him, his eyes trapped Castiel's as he slowly ran his tongue along the underside of his erection. The angel's mouth dropped open in a gasp as he watched the entire length of his cock disappear into his hunter's mouth. "Oh, Dean—" he tried again, he almost choked on his groan.

Dean worked his length, his entire body was alight, he had guided Castiel's hands into his hair, encouraging him to grip it tightly – to move his head controllingly, the angel's fingers snaked lovingly over his cheeks, curling around his jawbone at the base of his ears, resting against both sides of his throat. His thumbs brushed gently along the lines of his jaw, Dean moaned around Castiel's length, the feeling of his hands controlling him made pleasure coil in his stomach. He gripped his hips tighter, fingers digging into the flesh as he tried to swallow him deeper but Castiel's hands held him firm – not letting him go any further. Dean looked up through his lashes and met Castiel's eyes, his heart thumped heavily in his chest – the look of authority turned him inside-out with arousal. Like listening to him give orders, watching him lead others, now taking charge of him like this when Dean was so used to leading. He tried again, moving his head forwards to try and take him in more, Castiel held back again – tilting his head slightly to the side, Dean felt the angel's thumbs trace the seam of his lower lip, his fingers still stretched over his throat.

Dean pulled back, releasing Castiel's length from his mouth, he grinned, trying to be sly, speaking as Castiel's dick hovered against his full bottom lip, "What, not going to let me fuc—Cas—" Dean couldn't finish his sentence as Castiel's hands gripped the back of his neck, fisting his hair as he thrust forward into Dean's mouth, Dean sighed around his cock, he took Castiel in as deep as he could, listening with delight has the angel groaned out heavenly praises above him, he was rolling his hips and hissing in a language that Dean recognised but couldn't understand – it was beautiful though, he looked up at him again, _he is beautiful, too beautiful – he deserves so much more._ He wondered how far this would go, praying to the angel that was effectively fucking his face that this would not be ending anytime soon. The angel looked down at him, he could sense the copious amounts of longing radiating from Dean's body. Castiel's hands left Dean's neck and pulled his dress shirt from his shoulders where they had left it, it fell to the floor. Castiel groaned a string of words, Dean's hand moved to replace his mouth, pumping him slowly as he looked up at his angel, "English, Cas." He drawled, Castiel's eyes were ablaze as he looked down at Dean, he moved his thumb so that it traced Dean's bottom lip, he eagerly sucked it into his mouth, running his tongue over the pad of the finger.

"I said," he whispered darkly, "You talk too much when you don't need to, that you are amazing with your lips wrapped around me like you have, and that you are in for a long night." Dean's mouth opened in stunned surprise, he never thought he'd hear anything like that from Castiel – it made him almost shiver in anticipation. Castiel let the corners of his mouth turn up, "It is sexier in Enochian…" He pulled Dean roughly to his feet and kissed him hard on the mouth, the hunter was gasping for air in moments as he tried to keep up, he pushed Dean's jeans and underwear from his hips, and kicked off his own pants and let them and his boxers fall to the ground.

They moved onto the bed – they scrambled up until Dean felt the pillows behind his head, he pushed them harshly off the bed. Castiel moved on top of him, pressing his body against him, taking Dean's wrists in his grip and pinning them next to his head, he trailed down his throat, lingering on his Adam's apple, his collar bones, and his shoulder. He moved back to his lips and whispered to Dean, "What are you willing to do?" his voice was like silk, his lips melded to Dean's, Dean opened his mouth and deepened the kiss, Castiel released his wrists and ran his hands down Dean's side. Gripping his hips firmly, he gave a sinuous roll, Dean groaned as the mere friction of the movement sent his mind fuzzy, Castiel continued softly between kisses, "I don't want to take more than you are willing to give."

 _You can have all of me._ "You askin' me for my safe word?" Dean could feel Castiel's lips turning up slightly in a half smile.

"I am asking for your consent to continue, and your promise that you will stop me if it becomes too much."

Dean pulled back a little, " _Too much_?" he grinned slyly, "Ego much?"

Castiel tilted his head to the side, his eyes burning, "Angels have exceptional stamina, much more than humans do." He smiled artfully, "But I guess you will just have to find out the hard way…"

Dean didn't get a chance to respond as Castiel nudged his knees apart and settled between them, hovering over Dean with a look of wonder, his hand snaked down between them and slowly curled his too-warm hand around Dean's erection, he began pumping slowly, he unravelled at the seams. His hands moved to the angel's shoulders, gripping him tightly as pleasure that was more intense than what he expected from a hand-job coursed through his body and made his head swim. Castiel was gentle, painstakingly slow, and was not giving in to the moans of the man pinned beneath him. Every few moments, the angel would duck his head down and nip or kiss the skin of his neck, lips, or clavicle. Dean gasped and groaned softly each time, watching Castiel through half-closed eyes, trying his hardest to remain stoic – and failing. "Do you have lubricant?" Castiel whispered, Dean bit into his lower lip, _Christ, that word should not sound sexy…_ Castiel's thumb rolled gently over the head of his cock, Dean had to concentrate.

"Uh, yeah." Dean mumbled, rolling half to his side to reach the bedside table, he stretched for the top drawer and pulled out a few single-use sachets of lubricant, he paused for a moment and closed it, not sure whether to reach for the condoms. He noticed for the first time a candle on the bedside table, he debated lighting it – _I mean, we have the lamps…_ Dean decided against it and just dropped the sachets next to him, he handed one to Castiel before he realised how desperate it would have made him look – he didn't care.

Castiel straightened up and reached for the sachet, his hand still pumping Dean, teasingly unhurried. He finally released him, opening the sachet and coating his fingers liberally. This was the first time Dean could see his entire body, his tawny skin was smooth over his muscular chest and stomach, his shoulders were broad, and his thighs looked like they could break someone in half if he tried. Dean wondered why he ever wore all those clothes that made him look like such a scrawny dude, he bit into his lip as his eyes traced the lines of his hipbones and he stared openly at Castiel's erection. His mouth tingled, he felt like there was too much air in his lungs – he exhaled sharply, _he is too much, too good._

Castiel's eyes smouldered as he lowered his hand between Dean's thighs, Dean kept his eyes boring into Castiel's, his chest heaved in eagerness, he licked his lips as he felt the warm fingers of the angel stroke over his entrance. He gasped loudly as he felt Castiel slide a long finger into him with only slight resistance, he groaned again as Castiel moved his hand slowly. Dean could see the muscles of his shoulder and arm move as he thrust his finger gently in and out of him, he tangled his hands in the sheets, squeezing his eyes shut. " _More_ …" he mumbled softly. He threw his head back and groaned as he felt Castiel comply, adding another long finger – there was a steady aching stretch as Dean's body adjusted to the intrusions; it had been so long since he had done it to himself or had someone else do it to him. It felt incredible for Dean, the pleasure was starting to overpower the pain and he found himself grinding his hips downwards onto Castiel's hand. There was a moment when Castiel withdrew his fingers almost fully, when suddenly he added another finger that had Dean crying out as he pushed back into him. Just when he thought it all couldn't get more overwhelming, he felt Castiel grip his erection, and it was enveloped in a hot, wet, heat, " _Fuck, Cas!_ " he barely managed, looking down at his lover as he watched his entire length disappear into the angel's mouth, he cried out again, resisting the overpowering urge to thrust his hips up into Castiel's mouth.

Dean knew that he wouldn't last long like this, not with what the angel was doing to him, not with how it felt – more intense than he could imagine, he wondered if it was an angel-thing. Castiel could feel Dean opening up beneath him, revealing parts of his true self – his soul was humming to Castiel, the sounds were stunning, and the angel didn't know what was teasing his desires more – Dean's soul, or the sounds Dean himself was making.

"F _—fuck me_ ," Dean practically whimpered, Castiel's whole body shivered at the words.

"Of course, Dean." The angel said gently, his hand replacing his mouth on Dean's dick, " _After_ I finish you here."

Dean looked at Castiel in disbelief, he was going to make a snarky remark, but Castiel's mouth enclosed him again and his comeback was lost in a hiss and groan. _You fucking tease!_ He tries to say, but barely more than a murmur escapes his mouth. He moves his hands to Castiel's hair, tangling and pulling. He doesn't know how an angel-of-the-Lord turned out to be some kind of sexual divinity, especially after the one time of having sex that Dean knew about. He grits his teeth as Castiel continues to wreak havoc on his body, he felt his pleasure build, he felt his back arch slowly off the bed. The fingers inside him massaging deep within him, the feeling of being full, the mocking glide over his prostate that had him lighting up like a Christmas tree. His jaw went slack as his pleasure crested, "Cas—Oh fuck, Cas—I'm going to—" he threw his head back as he came into the angel's mouth. Castiel watched him through his eyelashes, his soul crackled and sung – before slowly closing back up.

Castiel removed his fingers slowly, but kept his lips around Dean's cock, swallowing him down as Dean practically thrashed with the oversensitivity of it all. He finally released him, and Dean untangled his hands from his hair. He tried in vein to slow his breathing, gasping in surprise as Castiel's mouth suddenly covered his own, kissing him with a passion he was not expecting. He could taste himself on Castiel's tongue and it made his whole body hot, he felt Castiel's erection against his thigh which was turning him inside-out with desire, he squirmed under him, trying to reach down between them. Castiel suddenly straightened up, pulling Dean's hips up into his lap, Dean inhaled sharply.

Dean watched him reach for another sachet, tearing it open and smoothing it over himself. Dean's stomach was all butterflies, his head in a post-orgasm haze. He leant back down to capture Dean's lips as he lined himself up, pressing against his lover's entrance, swallowing his exclamation as he breached him, bottoming out inside him and groaning loudly. He pulled back and rested his forehead against Dean's tracing his hands over the lines of his face, whispering to him in Enochian, trying to remember that English was preferred. "Dean—" he watched as Dean's eyes reel back into his head as Castiel rolled his hips, his mouth was open, but no sound was coming out. Castiel took his lips in a bruising kiss, taking every care not to be gentle, grinding into him as he slid his tongue into his mouth.

He was tight and hot around his cock, he was warm and compliant beneath his fingers, he gripped Castiel's hair in his hands and opened his mouth to receive him. He clawed at his shoulders to keep him closer, Dean couldn't have him leaving him. _Not after this, not after all this time._ Feeling Castiel inside him, filling him, kissing him like he was too good and too pure.

Dean grunted as he pushed forward, using all his strength, and the angel's distraction to roll him onto his back. The new angle made Dean groan, his palms pinning Castiel under him, wrapping his fingers around his biceps as he rode him. Raising his body up and almost slamming it back down, Castiel cried out under him, the angel gripped his hips and threw his head back. A string of words filled the air between them, Dean knew they were praise. He shifted his body weight, reaching out to grab the head of the bed, using it to help him keep steady.

He continued to rock his body, fucking himself on Castiel's dick, having the angel roll his hips up to meet the hunter mid-grind. Each dirty grind was like the first, his mouth would open and a groan would fall from his lips, Castiel would hiss more praise. The smooth glide of the angel's cock tormented his prostate, the angle was too good, he had no idea how Castiel was making him feel like this – but he never wanted it to end. The angel reached up for Dean's face, sliding his hand over his cheek and hooking it behind his neck, pulling him down so their mouths could slide together. "Cas, oh fuck." He mumbled against Castiel's kiss, "You are so—" his mouth was suddenly occupied again, Castiel kissing him roughly as he thrust his hips upwards quickly, continuously. Dean arched his back, straddling him, throwing his head back as he felt Castiel pound into his prostate over and over, he felt the hands of the angel grab his hips, gripping him tight enough that there were sure to be bruises. Dean's soul started to reveal itself to Castiel again, this time it was brighter – tempting the angel. Dean cried out loudly as he orgasmed, he released himself across Castiel's stomach, not thinking he had it in him. He crumpled forward, grabbing the headboard and rocking his way through the aftershock of the orgasm, it took him longer than he cared to admit to recover. "H—how are you—" he sighed loudly, "Not finished?" he finally managed.

"Angel stamina." He smiled, puffing himself. It relieved Dean that Castiel was showing signs that this was having an effect on him. He could tell it felt good to him, he wondered what it would take to push him over the edge. Dean rolled his hips, the ache of Castiel still hard inside him made him groan. Castiel pulled him down to kiss along his throat, along his jaw, "We can take a break," he whispered, "If you need to." Dean was already shaking his head.

"I can finish you." He laughed, hoping the shake in his voice was camouflaged by the sound. He twitched slightly through the first few moments, his body was _not_ used to this amount of pleasure. Dean forced his hips into quick actions, sliding up and down on his length, he ran a hand through his hair – it was damp with his effort, his whole body was practically dripping with sweat. He leant forward slightly, one hand on the headrest the other on Castiel's chest – he tried using the furniture to help with his momentum, he groaned loudly in frustration as his body started to succumb to the exhaustion. Castiel was moaning, sweet sounds that helped encourage Dean, he bore down on the angel's length, willing him to orgasm, wishing he would finish inside him. He wanted him to have enjoyed this as much as he had, he rolled his hips again, his hand fell from the wooden bedhead, dropping to Castiel's chest.

He didn't think he could last much longer, his nails dug into the bedhead, helping his balance, his thighs burned, his body ached. He raised and lowered himself as best he could, knowing that he was slowing down. Each moan that escaped his lips was verging more on an exhausted sob than the previous. He had to finish him, Dean tilted his head back, wishing he had agreed to exercise all those times when it was offered, wishing he had the endurance.

Suddenly there was a pause, as Castiel pushed himself up onto his elbows, "I will take over, Dean." he breathed.

"N—no," Dean barely managed, "I want to—" _you need to do this, you can't let him down, make this experience worth it, he deserves—_ , "I can—"

"Dean," Castiel's voice was deeper, his large hands caught his hips, holding him still, "Let me take over."

Dean was puffing and groaned loudly as he let Castiel withdraw himself. Castiel wriggled out from under Dean, then moved so he was flush behind him, Dean's back, hot and slick with sweat resting against the angel's chest. Castiel moved Dean how he wanted, he was strong, sure, and gentle – nudging his knees apart so his legs opened enough for him to kneel between, he massaged his thumbs at the base of the hunter's spine, mouthed at the crook of his neck and along his shoulders. Dean braced both hands against the headrest and tried to slow his breathing, he felt one of Castiel's hands raise up onto his hip, and then the head of his erection push against his ass. "Are you okay to continue?" he asked, his voice like the smoothest whiskey.

"Yes," Dean whispered in response, "Yes, please." his thighs were jelly, and his heart felt as though it would explode.

Castiel pushed forward, and Dean's body took him easily. There was a sharp cry at the new angle, and then Dean was whimpering small grunts with every thrust. Dean's head was tilted back against the angel's shoulder, Castiel sunk his teeth into the flesh of Dean's exposed neck, he gasped loudly as the angel began to make his thrusts longer, slower. Dean's chest was heaving as he felt a spasm quake through his body as Castiel's length stroked over Dean's prostate, he tried to make a noise, but it came out as a strangled gasp, he gripped the headrest tighter in his hands, the knuckles of his fingers going white.

His lips moved to just below the hunter's ear, he whispered gently, "Play with yourself, Dean." Castiel's tanned arm moved across his chest like a seatbelt – keeping him pressed against him.

"I—I," he couldn't even string a sentence together, "—can't—" he didn't think he had anything more to give, there was nothing left in his tank – literally. He was sure his heart would give out if he came again.

Castiel's hand snaked over his torso, across his hip bones and curled around his erection, "You can." He barely moved his hand, the thrusting of Castiel was moving Dean's hips for him, the grip made silky from the lubricant and the heat was enough for Dean's lungs to punch out air in a sharp exhale. He hung his head forward and squeezed his eyes closed, feeling Castiel behind him, hearing his breaths, the sensation of his own body feeling like it was going to give out on him, it was so much. "Yes. _Dean_ , _Yes_." Castiel's voice was deeper than usual, rougher, he kept his lips under Dean's ear, sucking and biting the skin. His hand still gripped Dean's dick, and his arm kept his hunter pinned to him. He was so warm, so tight, so arousing. Dean felt something in his chest give way, it wasn't unpleasant, it felt like he'd been holding his breath too long and it was finally released. He didn't realise it was his soul showing itself fully to Castiel – but Cas did. The warmth of Dean's soul swirled around him, his vessel could barely contain the urge to hold the soul close – he felt like he was too full, he needed to release himself in order to bare it. Pleasure bubbled beneath the surface of his skin, he let his wings unravel from his shoulders, allowing them to spread wide – stretching them out so that the primaries brushed the walls on either side of the room. The relief was instantaneous, Dean's eyes were still closed, but the stir in the air around him caused him to look around himself.

The wings were massive, black, and terrifying. Dean tilted his head back again, turning his head so that he caught Castiel in a rough open-mouthed kiss. Castiel's thrusts became more erratic, desperate, he groaned into Dean, he thrust his tongue into the angel's mouth and released one of his hands from the head board to hold him there. The wings curled inwards, resting against Dean's chest, the primary feathers brushing the skin on either side of his sternum. It was electric and overwhelming for Castiel, his entire form lit up with a pleasure too intense. He tightened his grip on Dean's cock as he thrust once more before the lights in the room suddenly blew. The ' _pop, pop'_ of every light fixture in the room was drowned out by the sounds that emanated from Dean and Castiel as they climaxed together in the pitch black darkness of the room. Dean felt Castiel fill him, the heat flooded through him and he moaned softly as he fell forward, Castiel's arm releasing him and gripping his hips as he came down from his orgasm. Dean couldn't do anything but collapse onto his chest, whimpering as the pleasure wrecked him.

Castiel slowly withdrew himself, falling sideways, his wings laying limp on the bed beside him. Dean lay on his side, puffing and groaning softly. He reached out gingerly and felt his way across the top of the bedside table, he found his lighter and flicked it – he lit the small candle at the bedside. It wasn't much, but at least now he could see Castiel. He collapsed backwards, unable to stop panting.

"You—you…" Dean was trying to catch his breath, "You weren't—ah _fuck_." He waved his hand, putting a hold on his sentence, when he was finally able to manage a few words, he spoke again, glancing next to him at Castiel, "You weren't kidding about stamina." He grinned, "I doubt I will be able to walk tomorrow, or the day after…" he could feel his heart thumping in his chest, he took another slow breath.

Castiel half-smiled, his hair was damp with sweat, his torso glistening in the light of the candle at the bedside, his chest heaving, "I can heal you—if you wan—"

"N—no," Dean smiled gently, holding his hand up again, "I kind of want to feel it. Y'know, physical proof that it happened…" he was worried that he'd wake tomorrow, and it would have all been a dream – a very vivid, physically exhausting, wildly erotic dream, but a dream nonetheless. He would never admit it, and he could barely let himself think it now, _if this turned out to have never happened – it would kill me._

"Won't I be proof enough?" Castiel asked, his forehead creasing in confusion, propping himself up on his elbow – one of his wings looming just behind him. Dean openly stared at the feathery mass, he longed to reach out and brush his fingers over the feathers – _would that be rude? Without express permission?_

Dean reached out slowly, tracing his finger along the angel's jaw, his eyes traced over the glossy black wings, it was easier to watch them than look at Castiel's face. There was a shift as his wing draped over his shoulder, it seemed like he was offering it to him. He timidly ran his fingers over the inky black feathers, they were long and smooth, as his fingers dragged along them, Castiel closed his eyes and sighed contently.

Dean bit into his lip, he started in barely a whisper, "Things like this, like you—" _don't cry, don't cry, don't cry,_ "I don't usually get to have things this good in my life—" _shit._ "Something _always_ goes wrong, Cas." His voice cracked, and he knew there was no point hiding it, "Having this with you—I—I…" he felt the tears pool, finally glancing into Castiel's deep, blue eyes, "I don't deserve it. _I don't deserve you_."

Castiel watched as a tear trailed over his cheek, his eyes followed it until it disappeared under the line of his jaw, Dean looked away from him, dropping his hand. Castiel felt a swell of emotions rock through him, sadness, shock, anger, rejection, nausea mixed themselves into a dark lump inside his chest. He took a breath, and watched Dean's features again and then, just as suddenly as the first emotions had come about, something else bloomed – understanding. He understood why Dean felt this way, because he did too.

He felt he didn't deserve Dean, but he had rebelled a hundred times before – he wasn't about to start doing as he was told now. "I am not going anywhere." He said softly, "I have seen your soul, Dean. If you believe for one moment that now that I have had a chance to hold you, _taste you_ , that I would let that go? You are telling yourself lies." Castiel smiled tenderly, "We may not feel we deserve a lot. But we do deserve each other."

Dean looked at him, "You'll have me?"

"Didn't I just?" Castiel queried, his wings flexing slightly.

"Ha!" Dean couldn't hold back the laugh that burst forward, he couldn't believe that his angel was going to stay his, "Yeah. You did."

Castiel shimmied closer to him, "We will have to do this again sometime soon. I don't believe I will be able to hold out for the next ten-year anniversary."

Dean leant over and brushed his lips over the angel's, "Oh hell yeah!" He grinned, "And by the way _– three times_? Probably not safe to unleash on a mere mortal."

"I thought you handled it quite well." He smiled, leaning forward and kissing him gently.

/\/\/\/\

Sam sat in the booth, reading the newspaper and sipping from a mug. He didn't look up as Dean slowly slid into the chair across from him, he took another sip as Dean reached across for the menu and started reading it. It was when Castiel joined them a few moments later that Sam lowered his paper and cleared his throat, "Did you two have a good night?" he asked, looking from Dean to Castiel and then back to Dean. "My night was going quite well," he continued before they could answer, "Had a long shower, brushed my teeth, was in bed – just flicking through a few channels, hoping for something interesting to help me unwind for bed…" he took a drink, "I was watching this real interesting documentary on lizards that David Attenborough was doing – when suddenly every light in my room blew, and so did my TV…" he reached into his pocket, tossing his phone onto the table, "The charger shorted and blew my phone, and my laptop isn't turning on – so I am pretty sure the charger blew that too…"

Dean and Castiel looked at one another.

"And imagine my surprise, when I realised every other room was the same! I walked outside and found every customer from the hotel out in the carpark trying to figure out what caused it… Everyone was out…" he smiled widely, " _Almost_ everyone." he lifted his mug to his lips, "Well, I guess you two are _out_ now…" he took a mouthful, obviously impressed with his play on words.

Castiel pursed his lips thoughtfully, "My apologies about your laptop and cell phone. Your brother is an exceptional lover and I was not expecting my orgasm to result in a hotel-wide black-out…"

Sam spat out his coffee.

" _I. Was. Kidding_." he said, his mouth gaping open in humour, Dean was blushing furiously.

"I wasn't." Castiel said, tilting his head to the side, "Regardless, I know what to expect next time, and I will make sure we are in a more appropriate place." Dean smiled at this, he felt Sam look at him.

" _Next time?_ " Sam mouthed, Dean held the menu up higher to avoid the look Sam was giving him. "You caused thousands of dollars of damage… And you are going to do it _again_?!" he thought he may give himself a stroke from trying to contain his laughter.

"Oh definitely." Dean grinned.

"Of course." Castiel scowled.

They had both answered in unison.

"Wow…" Sam scoffed in an astonished tone, "Well, you both owe me a new laptop." he pushed up from the table, "I think I might go for a jog before we hit the road…"

"Oh, Sammy—" Dean smirked, "Mind if I join? Turns out I reeeeally need to work on my endurance."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


End file.
